Merry Christmas
by Jinxy Kessler
Summary: Tony and Bruce discuss Tony's Christmas plans; Pepper x Tony


The southern coast of Malibu was picturesque in the least and a slice of heaven at the most. The waves hitting the rocky coastline belied the time of year it was, but hints of Christmas lights on decorated palm trees gave the residents of the exclusive town a sense of the winter season without the negative side effects. At least that is what Tony Stark liked to think. A man who outwardly played like Christmas was no big deal, but who had a tree imported in from the northern half of the state; decorated to the hilt like it was lifted straight from a Macy's display in New York City.

Two chairs sat facing the large picture windows that looked out over the horizon, providing a panoramic view of endlessness. A small table between them held a bottle of 50-year-old Glenfiddich and two glasses half full of the prized liquid, not watered down with ice. You have to let scotch settle, Tony could remember his dad telling him. Important words of advice from one alcoholic to another. Well…to a former alcoholic. Things had changed.

"Bruce…" Tony said to the man who occupied the other chair, not looking at him but continuing to stare out the window. They had their best conversations like this. "Christmas is coming," he said, without waiting for a response. He knew he was listening.

The dark featured scientist grinned softly to himself. He knew Tony cared, if only for one person's benefit. Everything was for her benefit. "Right down Santa Claus lane," he said as he watched a plane rising in elevation across their view point, mentally calculating the speed it must be traveling for a vessel that large to achieve the height it was reaching. "147 knots," he stated.

"150, you're forgetting to account for the fact that people are generally taking less luggage onboard these days with the bag charges airlines are enforcing," Tony responded, but didn't seem that involved in their favorite game this evening. Something was on his mind. He picked up his glass of scotch and sniffed it as he let the liquid roll in the glass. "This is excellent, Banner."

"I know I can't believe I found it. I couldn't think of a better Christmas present for a man who didn't want anything than a rare bottle of scotch," he said with a light chuckle. "So…" he said in his gentle voice, looking to Tony now to try to figure out this mystery. First he'd start with the facts. "You're caring about Christmas this year, obviously…you're introverted which is not generally your style, and you turned JARVIS off for the night. …you're planning something," Bruce said then as his brain worked the facts into a hypothesis. A moment's pause, and then Tony's face confirmed what he was thinking. "You're finally going to do it, aren't you…"

Tony immediately looked offended by the statement that was one thousand percent correct. "What do you mean finally? Who said there was a timeline involved? I mean really Bruce, show me the book that says you have to date for this many years and then you have to get engaged. Huh? No? Exactly. And anyway it wouldn't apply to me. I'm Iron Man," he said with a firm nod.

Now a small smirk would sit on Bruce's lips. He stayed just as calm and reasonable as he usually was, and that was why Tony liked to talk to him. He didn't get excitable. He couldn't afford to. "I'm assuming you have a ring?"

Tony scoffed. "Of course I do. The biggest, brightest and best," he said, but then settled into his chair. It wasn't the process that he was worried about. He could follow systematic instructions. Purchase. Kneel. Ask. Wait. Rejoice. It was the words that came with it that scared him like no enemy he ever faced.

He turned in his chair now as well, looking his best friend in the eyes with a nervousness he'd never felt before. "Bruce…what…I mean…I'm not good with words. I'm not a poet. There are like…a quarter of a million words to choose from and I have to pick the exact right ones to tell the women whom I am in love with that she is…is…" he said with a frustrated passion behind his voice, stumbling at the end and then sighing heavily. "Is…the world?"

Bruce shook his head. "No…that's overplayed."

"…that she's beautiful?" Tony asked hopefully.

"Well that's a given already isn't it?" Bruce responded.

"Yeah right, right…maybe I should just leave the ring out for her a—" Tony said, but was immediately cut off by the look that Bruce was giving him. "Fine. Fine I won't do that," he said, now looking at his best friend with desperation.

Bruce watched the invincible Iron Man in his most venerable moment, and all he could do was smile. "You're going to take that ring, and you're going to get down on one knee in front of that ridiculous tree of yours, and you're going to say 'Pepper Potts—"

And exactly what Bruce had hoped would happen, happened. Tony Stark, the most narcissist man he had ever met, could never handle being told what to do in any given situation. The part of him that had to have control always took over - that confident man who knew how to handle anything. "No no no…I'm going to play her favorite song and we're going to dance. _Then_ at the end of the song I'm going to get down on my knee and take the box out of my pocket…" he said, doing just that. He opened the box, and Bruce saw the most dazzling piece of diamond jewelry he'd ever seen. Clearly, it had been custom designed, as its architecture was both brilliant and beautiful. "She's going to gasp, and do that adorable thing where she puts her hand over her mouth. Then I'm going to stare at her, and I'm going to say 'Pep…there are three words in this world that give me the will to keep this shrapnel out of my heart. I don't say them enough, but I would use my dying breath to tell you that I love you. Will you marry me?'" Tony said, then stared at Bruce for approval he didn't need.

Bruce only continued his soft smile. "I don't have to play Pepper, do I?"

Tony blinked, coming back into reality. That's what he was going to do. He just needed Bruce to help him find the right words. "Shut up Bruce," he said, turning to look out at the sky again but now he had a pleased grin on his lips. "And Santa Claus doesn't have a lane. It would have to be a runway to get enough lift-off speed."

"You're right, Tony…you're right," Bruce replied, relaxing back into his chair. It would be a special Christmas indeed.


End file.
